Villains
by unset city
Summary: He lived in a world that consisted of nothing but villains that fed the darkness to his mind...


_Villains_

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Joker, the Batman, or any related characters**

He knew only of a world that consisted of villains. So many villains actually, all of them walking around in the skins of so called saints, all of them hiding behind falsely claimed halos their dark, devil horns. There were all villains, and no heroes; heroes, saints, anything pure did not exist, not really. It was all a clever illusion that people, foolish, dimwitted people, chose to believe. No one wanted to be the one to admit that the world was all evil, that Gotham City was a place of corruption and sin. No one, that is, except him.

The Joker was not crazy—he just saw the world as it really was. Dark, brutal, and relentless. In the world, there was no mercy, and so he would give none, show none. In the world, there was only one chance at life, and if you fucked it up well, that was it, game over, you're done. He knew that from experience.

His goal was simple—to expose the world as it really was, to uproot that false sense of 'good' and turn it around. And who was better of an example than Gotham City's most famous 'heroes'?

Harvey Dent and the Batman were notorious for their good deeds, and it always made him laugh. Was stopping a man from committing suicide to be considered a good deed? If the man had wanted to live, he would not have placed himself on the precipice of death to begin with; by saving him, he was sure that the Batman had only made that man's life even more hell.

Batman was the one who had taken down all the mob leaders, but at what price? The black underground city was now worst than ever thanks to him and his stopping of the crime; robberies were more frequent, panic made all those criminals blind and sloppy, killing sporadically, doing as they pleased. Yes, the Batman had turned the world even darker, and through that darkness he himself had been spawned.

The Joker did nothing but encourage him on. In truth, half the crimes he committed were for the Batman, and were a result of the Batman's won false sense of judgment. Oh yes, judgment, how he loved that word. It was so stained now, so covered in the debris that he had brought Gotham too. Where was justice when one man died for another cruel man's life? Where was justice when one innocent had to die, and the other had to live? And where oh where was justice when Gotham's own white knight was turned into a shell of a man half burnt to death, halfway in hell?

Oh he knew where justice was alright, and he was the only one that seemed to know.

Justice was no where, because like so many other good things, it did not exist. It was a simple belief that was impossible to follow, a belief so frequently broken and marred that it had turned into mere dust that was blown about in the wind by the Batman's wings. The hero ruining it all, creating the villain…It was not how life was supposed to go, not according to those dreamers, that silly world we all live in. Only he knew that it was the true reality, only he was strong enough to see past it. After all, the scars on his face were testaments enough of the harshness of the world. And every time someone saw them…He was proud to know that not only did he bring a smile to their face, but he brought reality into their heads. It was really a shame though that the moment they saw how fucked up their world was they had to die. But at least they died with the truth, since hell seemed to be the only place for such a dark thing, the truth…

He carried the truth with him always, right on his face, in the center of his mind of explosions and blood. He was the symbol of the world—chaos, and he wore it proudly. He could never be anyone else but the embodiment of chaos, a slave for his own cause. He made his own damn justice, and he did it all without sparing anything a thought.

The world was just too fragile for its own good, the human psyche scribbled and darkened with the lies and pain of humanity. All it took was certain things to set it free, the animal that existed at the forefront of everyone's mind. For him, fear was the way to set it free, absolute chaos. Under it, even the Batman and his wayward justice, even the savior Harvey Dent, would break and fall, and he would be there laughing, just laughing, when it did. He was so many things…

A madman, a sociopath, a psychopath, a freak, a sinner, a chaotic fool, a bomb ready to explode, a scarred face, an undiscovered genius, a clown, a…

Villain. The villain the world had made, and the villain the world did not know how to stop.

Yes, in this world of nothing but darkness and villains, he was the worst of them all which, coincidentally, made him the best.

**Well, that was my little rant, so...Please Review! **


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